


Shotgun

by Octeaviea



Series: Hallowed Ground [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octeaviea/pseuds/Octeaviea
Summary: They get married in front of the window where his sister first saw the stars.





	Shotgun

Bellamy has spent weeks, doing and undoing stitches. He's stolen one of Raven's tank tops and used it as a pattern. Used more bed sheets than they could afford to spare to sew her a full sweeping skirt like in old wedding photos. Used her tape measure to measure the line of her leg while she's sleeping.  
"It's bad luck for a groom to see the brides dress before the wedding day."  
"You want to take over the sewing Em?" He asks, holding the needle out to Emori who recoils like he's offered her a cobra.  
"No! God no, I'm here for your outfit 'Mr. Reyes.'"  
He's shaking his head before she's finished.  
"My what?" He wonders if she's found an old dress shirt, or something stuffed into a cranny of the New Ark. he wouldn't be opposed to it really, he has been wearing the same two t-shirts for almost three years, but they are already using more resources than they can spare for this wedding. And although he would pluck the moon from the sky and hang in around Ravens neck if she asked him to, he's less inclined to waste these kinds of frivolities on himself.  
But what Emori pulls from behind her back is much better. It's a clay pot. With a stunted, imperfect orange zinnia poking its head from the black earth between her palms.  
He takes the pot reverently from her hands, the first growing thing besides Algae he's seen in three years.  
"Emori." He breathes.  
"You did it."  
She's grinning from ear to ear now, her secret out of the bag.  
"I did." She says proudly.  
He places the pot on his worktable and stands up, a waterfall of fabric falling from his lap and he does. He lifts Emori right off her feet and spins her around until she bangs a fist on his back.  
"Put me down you big lump."  
He obliges, but not before kissing her on the cheek which she wipes away with exaggerated disgust.  
"But."  
He looks down at her warily.  
"But what?"  
"It'll die in a week. And it'll take me another year to grow one half as nice. So get sewing, tailor."  
She picks up the pot from his worktable and slips out the door. Bellamy looks at the panels of white fabric spread across his worktable, and sighs. 

"A shotgun wedding?" Raven asks, snapping her head up from her worktable.  
"As in, I think Emori might shoot me with a shotgun if we don't get this done before her flower dies."  
Raven grins and transfers herself from her chair to Bellamy's lap.  
"Does that mean I get to see you again Mr. Mystery?"  
"That's Mr. Reyes to you ma'am." He tells her, kissing the back of her neck. 

Raven sits buy the ark window with a cup of ration coffee, the first moment she’s had to herself in weeks. Something on this dammed ship is always breaking, she is always busy. Even with Monty sharing the load exhaustion paints blue under both of their eyes. Raven leans against the metal and closes her eyes. Raven never thought she’d have a wedding as such. Always thought she’d move in quietly with Finn. Maybe have a kid. Be happy, sure, loved, sure, but not like this. They way Bellamy looks at her sometimes, when she’s working and he thinks she’s too busy to notice or in the early hours of the morning under the blue fluorescent Ark light makes her feel like she will burn up with his love. Makes her wonder how she ever could have considered being anyone’s second choice when there was love like this right around the corner. Echo and Emori will wake her early, dress and hairpins in hand, and she should sleep. She goes to find Bellamy, but the door to his office is closed and a crude sign, painted with black oil, a bird with an x through it stops her. She smiles and traces the wing, hopes he’s a better tailor than a artist. 

When she makes it back to her bunk she finds what she at first thinks is a pile of scrap metal lying on her pillow. When she gets closer, she discovers that they are flowers, hammered thin from sheet metal and twisted to look like a bouquet of roses. There’s a note, folded over once on her pillow. She picks it up.  
“Make sure he knows you love him.” It reads in Monty’s loopy black script. She presses the makeshift bouquet to her nose and smells the tang of worked metal, sharp as blood.  
“I will.” She whispers to the empty room, like a vow. 

The night before the wedding, Bellamy doesn’t sleep. He spends the night stitching the neckline of Ravens dress into and elegant sweetheart, sewing himself a collared shirt to match her. At three am Murphy pokes his head into the room.  
“Bell?”  
Bellamy moves his face off the bodice of the dress, starting awake. Hoping he hasn’t drooled all over it.  
“Murphy!”  
“You sleeping here? Raven was looking for you earlier.”  
“She’s not supposed to see me the night before the wedding.” He slurs, mouth numb from exhaustion and extended contact with the table.  
“Yeah I think the ‘No Raven’s Allowed’ got that message across.”  
“Good.” He lays his head back down, carefully avoiding the dress this.  
“I brought you a present!” Murphy tells him.  
“Is it a pillow?”  
Something falls gently onto the table beside him, metallic. He looks up. Two rings, one smaller than the other, hammered from sheet metal. Dull grey but polished to a mirrored shine.  
He raises is head higher to find Murphy, sees only an empty room and hears only the click of a door. 

"Ow ow OW! Echo! Are you trying to scalp me?"  
"If I was trying to scalp you, you wouldn't be asking that question." Echo says dryly from behind Raven, tugging another piece of hair into an intricate braid at the back of her head. Echo had insisted on tearing up the jacket she’d come from earth in, carefully removing the shards of pearl she had once traded dearly for with floukru. She now carefully braids each shard into Raven’s dark hair until the intricate surface of her braid shines with tiny stars. Raven had protested, at first.  
“Their yours!”  
“You need something borrowed. For your wedding. For luck.” And Raven’s eyes had filled with tears and she’d turned away. 

Wait! Calls a voice from behind her. It's Harper. Raven and Harper have never been friend or even acquaintances really, but when Harper presses a strip of dark blue fabric I to her hand and whisper.  
“Its Zoë’s. Its blue.”  
Raven wordlessly hikes up her long dress and wraps it twice around her brace and then her arms around Harper.  
“Thank you.” She whispers into Harpers hair.  
“Be happy Raven.” She whispers back. “Just be as happy as you can.” 

Echo is officiating. She been talking a real big game but Bellamy can see her hands shaking around her papers.  
“Relax, Echo.” He places a hand over her shaking ones.  
“Its not like you’re the one getting married.” He grins at her, the image of Echo in a wedding dress, in anything but a leather jacket is ridiculous.  
For a moment Echo’s face falls into something like grief and he cannot help but remember her say.  
“I know what its like to lose someone you love to war.”  
And then she grins back at him, knocks his hip with her own.  
“Nah, you’re the one in white today Blake.”  
And he is, wearing a collared shirt sewn from the scraps of Raven’s dress with an orange zinnia in his breast pocket.  
And then Raven, herself, walking down the hallway. Dress sweeping the floor holding a bouquet of metal flowers, pearls gleaming like stars in her hair and Bellamy’s breath leaves his body completely. 

She stands in front of him. Smiling and beautiful and Bellamy is so full of love, so full of light that that he feels as though his heart will beat straight out of his chest and into Raven’s hands. Echo clears her throat and begins. They are grounder vows, old, from the lands of Azgeda before they were called that.  
“I, Raven Reyes.” She begins, and Raven follows her word for word, voice even and steady.  
“I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup  
I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care  
I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine,  
I shall honour you above all others.  
From this day, and all the days of my life.” 

Bellamy breathes in and repeats them too, less steady than Raven. Promising a life he never thought he’d get to woman he never thought he’d meet. In front of the window where his little sister first saw the stars. In front of the window where he’d once asked her is she was with him and she’d replied, just as sure as she is now, ‘always.’ His voice breaks on the last line and she is kissing him and it doesn’t matter where they are. Only that Raven Reyes is in his arms and Echo is rolling her eyes and Emori is laughing and the world spins empty and blue beneath them and he loves her, he loves her, he loves her. 

 

After, they lie in their bunk with the single porthole window out to the stars. It's not a real bedroom, a repurposed meeting room, or some councilman’s office.  
The honeymoon suite, Murphy had joked, his mouth full of MRE chocolate cake and Emori had kicked him in the shins under the table. Regular ark bunks do not have windows, of course. Suddenly Raven sits up, pulling the blankets off Bellamy as she does and jerking him out of his half sleep.  
"What?"  
She's pointing. "Shooting star," she whispers, reverent. She turns to him.  
"We have to make a wish."  
He sits up behind her, brushing her hair off her neck as she stares out at the empty black of space. He smiles into the ark of her shoulder blade as she looks towards the stars.  
"I wouldn’t even know what to wish for.”


End file.
